


New Neighbors

by VirginiasWolf



Series: Life Moves On [27]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:14:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23632174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiasWolf/pseuds/VirginiasWolf
Summary: Richard and Camille find the relative normalcy of their lives thrown into chaos when an old acquaintance quite literally crashes back into their lives as a new neighbor.Part of the Life Moves On series
Relationships: Camille Bordey/Richard Poole
Series: Life Moves On [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456375
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	New Neighbors

Camille stands just inside the back doorway holding a cup of tea as she looks fondly out into the yard. She can remember exactly how she had felt the very first time she laid eyes on the space. The only real eye-catchers had been a drab looking shed and a modest English garden, and eye-catcher had been a generous term. 

  
Although Richard had been pleased with this modest yard, Camille had despaired and had stubbornly refused to even venture into it for the first month of living in the flat, until Richard had lured her out with the promise of letting her at least partially decorate it. In the nearly five years since he has more than made good on his promise. It isn't exactly a Caribbean dream yard and still bears more than a few English hallmarks, as well as the touches of a home that is also occupied by children and a dog, but it is also a yard that she no longer dreads looking at. The shed has been painted a rather festive shade of blue and there are even a few yard decorations that were carefully shipped all the way from Saint Marie.

  
None of these things reflect why she is currently looking so fondly at the grassy expanse though. The garden is still tucked away in a small corner of the yard and Richard is working to winterize it while Rory trails along behind him. They make an odd pair; Richard handsome as ever yet also dressed and coiffed almost like a professor or well, an average Englishman and Rory wearing a tutu and a pair of fairy wings over her blue jeans and sparkly pink hoodie. Yet despite how different they are Camille can't help but feel like they fit together perfectly. 

  
Rory is peppering Richard with almost constant questions and rather than become frustrated he is making a point to carefully word everything in terms the four-year-old will understand. Camille would love to make a video of the moment, but she has a feeling that by the time she finds either the camera or her phone the magic of it all will be gone.

  
As if to break the stillness and reverie, Emily yells from inside the flat. "Maman, you promised me we'd watch a movie together!"

  
Camille has promised her elder daughter such, even allowing Emily to pick out the film. Of course, it is partially a trick to get some help with folding laundry, but the bonding time won't be bad either. "I'm coming ma Cherie, have you picked out a movie yet?"

  
Camille walks past the living room and into the kitchen so she can put her teacup in the sink and also retrieve the clean laundry out of the dryer. The moment Emily sees the basket she manifests a look of almost betrayal but resigns herself before Camille can feel guilty. 

  
For several minutes everything goes exactly as planned until Camille hears a sudden crash outside. "Emily, pause the movie, please. I am going to go check on your papa and Rory."

  
The worst images race through her mind. Richard racing in clutching Rory's broken body. Richard lying on the ground accidentally impaled by one of his own gardening tools or that sculpture that Jack Mooney had helped pick out on their last island visit. Blood. Death. Anguish. Pain. When she steps out into the yard the image that instead greets her is decidedly different.

  
Richard is standing in the garden looking towards the gate which is obscured from Camille's vision and Rory is hiding behind his leg looking confused and a bit scared, but the moment Camille steps outside both heads turn to her.

  
"What happened?" Camille asks, feeling as confused as her daughter looks.

  
The voice that answers doesn't belong to Richard or Rory. "I think I leaned a bit too hard on the gate. Really sorry about that Camille." It takes a matter of seconds for Camille to recognize the owner even though she hasn't spoken to the man in what has now been close to three years. Humphrey Goodman.

  
Camille tries to hide that she is now just as confused as her husband and daughter although she extends a hand for Humphrey to shake. "What a pleasant surprise. We didn't realize you were going to be in the area today."

  
"Actually, Martha and I bought the flat right next to yours. We're neighbors now. Isn't that wonderful?" 

  
The grip on Camille's hand lingers for a bit too long and she is suddenly reminded of the crush that Humphrey once had on her. At least he's married now as well, so that shouldn't be a problem anymore, should it? However, she still looks towards Richard to find out if this is the first time he'd heard the news. "Do you hear that Cherie, we have new neighbors."

  
Richard nods solemnly, one of his looks where he is pretending to be far more comfortable with a situation than he actually is. "Yes, apparently we do, and we're going to need a new gate."

  
"I could help with that." Humphrey's offer is innocent-sounding, but Camille knows that there is no way it is going to turn out well.

  
Richard apparently shares Camille's concern because in response to the offer he immediately states, "That won't be necessary. My cousin was planning to drop by later this afternoon, wasn't he, Dear?"

  
Camille is almost certain that Richard has made no such plans with his cousin, but likely being expected to be the one who is the go-between for creating such doesn't seem as bad as letting Humphrey further destroy their yard. To make the phone call for Richard however, she is going to need to figure out how to make some sort of grand exit. Her idea comes when she realizes Rory is still clinging to Richard's leg, clearly intimidated by the strange man who has literally crashed into their yard. "Richard, don't you think your helper has earned a juice box?"

  
Richard looks down at their daughter for a moment before replying. "Yes, I believe she has."

  
At that moment Camille realizes she should probably say something else to Humphrey before going inside so that she doesn't appear rude. "Well, I'm sure we'll see each other again soon. I look forward to meeting your wife as well." Hopefully, he won't realize that her voice is strained as she tries to force the words of false cheer out of her mouth.

  
At least once Camille has Rory back inside the flat she is provided with some form of distraction. There's something that feels oddly stress relieving about helping her youngest daughter wash her hands and making sure she is sitting comfortably with a juice box. Although neither of the girls are biologically her daughters, being their mother just feels like a role she instinctively knows she was meant to play, and that won't change even if there are other stressors in her life, like having Humphrey Goodman as a next-door neighbor.

  
However, the moment her daughter is situated, Camille does allow herself to express her frustrations by lightly banging her head against the doorway between the kitchen and hallway. "Mon Dieu, pourquoi penserait-il que c'était vaguement approprié?"

  
After taking a second to compose herself, Camille picks up the phone and dials the number of Richard's cousin. On the surface, Michael Poole appears to represent everything that Richard is not. In fact, Camille might have initially even gone as far as to assume that the tattooed, motorcycle riding Michael was an anti-Richard. Not surprisingly, the two men had also assumed for most of their lives that they were exact opposites of each other as well. Michael had mistaken Richard's nervous reserve for a belief that he was better than everyone else, and Richard had assumed that Michael's rebellious exterior extended to a bullying interior. It is likely that the two men would still feel distaste for each other if Liz, Michael's wife, hadn't reached out during the very first Poole family dinner Camille had attended, and elected to become Camille's first female friend in London. During the forced interaction that ensued, the two cousins had realized they had far more in common than they thought and had also become close friends.

  
A few minutes after Camille hangs up the phone, Richard walks back inside the flat and lets out a frustrated sigh.

  
"Was he rude to you?" Camille instinctively asks.

  
"That's the thing, it actually felt like he was trying to become old chums with me, but he did insinuate something that was quite rude."

  
Unthinkingly, Camille clutches at the counter, wondering if she will have to race over and give their new neighbor a piece of her mind. "And what was that?"

  
"He thought...he thought Rory was my daughter."

  
"But she IS your daughter."

  
Richard sighs. "Let me rephrase that. He believed you had allowed me to impregnate another woman and agreed to raise her child as your own."

  
The comment is so stupid, and so uniquely Humphrey that Camille can't help but feel a mix of amusement tinged into her frustration. Just enough that she won't race over to the Goodman house and scream at Humphrey. "I know it is a common stereotype that French women allow their husbands to keep mistresses, but I could never be okay with that after watching how much anguish my father put my mother through."

  
"And I could never be the type of husband that would expect you to be okay with it." After a pause, he adds, "But I could also never be okay with you having umm...having a relationship with another man on the side."

  
"I think that is only fair," Camille responds, "but you should know that I do not want another man. You are enough for me. Oh, by the way, Michael and Liz are at a ballet recital. He might be able to drop by later in the afternoon though."

  
Richard's face immediately falls. He doesn't say what he is thinking, but Camille has a feeling he is worried that within that time period Humphrey will try to offer to help again.   
So much for folding laundry in a timely manner, she decides. "Let me help."

  
"I think he still fancies you," Richard suddenly blurts out. "Humphrey I mean. I know it sounds ridiculously paranoid on my part, but you didn't see how he looked at you when you first stepped outside. It...it reminded me of how I was looking at you. I'm not sure if I could handle seeing that again."

  
Camille can't help but sigh in response. She understands what Richard is worried about, and she has much the same suspicions that he does, but he also isn't being fair. "Richard, I am going to pretend you did not just imply that I stop going out in our yard because of this. I am not going to become some reclusive housewife who is confined to the kitchen. If he spends too much time looking at me, he will become a threat to his own marriage, not ours!" Camille finishes with a huff and immediately feels guilty when she realizes Richard has suddenly diverted his gaze to his shoes, clearly hurt by her believing that he would intend to confine her to such a role.

  
"I'm sorry Camille, I didn't actually mean that you should...I just, I'm having a bit of trouble figuring out how to deal with this whole situation. You know I'm just really not good at reading people in general, but with him, it's almost impossible. Some of the things he's said to me, or about me, have been incredibly rude, but it almost feels like he isn't actually trying to be cruel."

  
Camille is about to respond when suddenly Emily peers into the kitchen. "Please don't fight."

  
Richard turns to their daughter. "We're not fighting sweetheart, your mother was just offering to help me with some repairs and I was being a bit stubborn about her offer." As he utters the statement that they aren't fighting, he looks over at Camille as if asking for her confirmation that this is true.

  
Camille nods affirmingly, confirming his statement. "Papa and I just need to fix the gate that our new neighbor crashed through."

  
A few minutes later Richard and Camille are examining the broken gate while Emily and Rory play with Murphy in the yard. It doesn't take long to realize that the damage isn't as bad as initially assumed. The wood of the gate is still completely intact. In fact, it is only the hinges that have snapped.

  
"Well, I should probably make a quick trip to the hardware store." Richard picks up one of the broken hinges to take with him. Before Camille can protest about him refusing to take her with him he adds, "Our girls seem to have gotten themselves caught up in a game, and we can't very well leave them unattended."

  
Camille glances over at their daughters, still happily playing. He's right, they would probably hate being pulled away from their fun for a trip to the hardware store, and Richard could make said trip much quicker on his own. There is still one thing she decides she wants to do before he leaves though. "Wait."

  
"Huh?" Richard pauses and turns to face her again, and Camille allows her mouth to crash against his before quickly teasing his lips apart and slipping her tongue inside his mouth for the briefest of seconds.

  
When they pull apart she offers, "A kiss for good luck," as an explanation.

  
"Or perhaps because our new neighbor was watching?" Richard teases.

  
"Or maybe it's simply because you married a French woman."

  
Richard lets out a small, warm laugh. "Perhaps. I suppose I should get to the hardware store, shouldn't I?"

  
"Don't be gone too long."

  
For several minutes after Richard leaves, Camille just stands in the empty space, where the gate would normally be, watching her daughters playing with Murphy. There's so much chaotic joy involved that she is almost tempted to join in the fun until she hears footsteps behind her coming up the driveway. Not Richard, it would be too soon for him to return, and she hasn't heard the sound of the car. The footsteps definitely belong to a man, so, unfortunately, Camille can only come up with one conclusion. It isn't as if she assumed she'd be able to avoid having to ever chat with Humphrey, but perhaps going the rest of the day, or at least a few hours, without doing so would be nice. She still hasn't processed any of this properly.

  
"I thought Richard's cousin was supposed to help." The speaker is indeed one cluelessly frustrating and awkwardly tall Englishman.

  
Camille turns around while still standing in the gateway. No need to allow anyone to escape. "After his daughter's ballet recital, but we decided we couldn't wait that long. We have a young dog and the girls would be crushed if something were to happen to him." This isn't really a lie. The pet door does allow Murphy to enter and leave the house as he pleases, and losing him would be quite the blow, not just for Emily and Rory, but for Camille and Richard too.

  
"And you're just standing here keeping the dog in while he goes to the hardware store?"

  
Richard is right, Camille realizes. There is an almost accidental rudeness to his question as if he doesn't even realize it but he is probing to find faults in her marriage, almost like it's a murder investigation he is trying to solve. "Look, right now I feel as if I'm being treated like a suspect being interrogated in a murder investigation, so I would prefer if you stopped trying to beat around the shrub and spit out whatever you want to say to me. I will try not to bite your head off over what you have to say."

  
"Actually, it's beat around the bush. You said, beat around the shrub."

  
Camille tries to fix Humphrey with her best glare. "And I do not care. Please make whatever point you're planning to make."

  
The way Humphrey pauses before speaking makes Camille realize that it will probably be even harder to keep from yelling than she had initially planned. Finally, he speaks. "You are acting almost like a sanitized version of yourself. Back on Saint Marie, you were constantly doing outrageous things and now you're just..."

  
"I'm just standing by my gate without any makeup on?" Camille can't help but be almost amused by how much this serves to highlight that whatever unintentional feelings he may have for her aren't actually caused by him seeing her as a real person. 

  
After not seeing her for almost three years, he has been back in her life for only a few hours and he is using what he has seen during this time to prove to himself that she has somehow been drastically changed. Would he be saying the same thing if he'd run into her in a bar spending an evening with Liz and her other girlfriends, or allowing her daughters to drag her into a ridiculous dance party during the middle of chores, or during one of her almost daily Skype chats with her mother, or even during one of the nights when her and Richard try to cook dinner together and somehow end up making an accidental mess of the kitchen where clean up leads to dissolving into fits of mutual giggles?

  
"I'll try to forgive you for your assumptions because during the time we worked together I was trying to hide my own problems by pretending to always be happy, but I am a human, not a robot and as a human, I am not always going to follow your perceptions of who I should be," she continues. "Because we are neighbors now, we will certainly be seeing a lot more of each other, but this will include days when we are both tired, or sick, or just human. I can't expect that not to be true for you, so you shouldn't expect it not to be true for me."

  
Before Humphrey can respond, a woman's voice yells over the fence, "Humphrey! Where are you?"

  
Camille can just barely see the shape of the figure that must be Martha, Humphrey's wife. "You better go now. I don't think your wife would appreciate you insisting on spending the afternoon with the neighbor woman."

  
Camille hopes she has given him enough to get him to start thinking about how he has been perceiving her, but she supposes only time will tell. Instead of focusing on this, however, she decides to turn back to check on her girls and finds that they are still playing with Murphy, apparently blissfully unaware of everything that has just taken place. In a way, it is almost soothing seeing how little has changed. This time she does allow herself to join in with the games. Despite what Humphrey may be led to believe, she definitely hasn't become the kind of mother, or person, who is afraid to have any sort of fun.

  
Richard arrives back at the flat a few minutes later. Camille isn't sure exactly how long he just stands there watching them before clearing his throat and addressing Emily and Rory, "Well, I believe I am going to need to borrow your mother to help me repair this gate."

  
If anyone else in their neighborhood had caught her in the middle of a spirited game of tag, Camille might have felt embarrassed, but Richard isn't judging her in the least. In fact, whenever she walks over to him she can see that he is actually smiling at her.

  
"I trust our new neighbor hasn't said or done anything particularly distressing while I was gone?"

  
"You mean like try to tell me that he believes London, and you, have changed me into a sanitized version of the person I was back on Saint Marie?"

  
Richard raises an eyebrow before responding. "But you're not. You're the most genuinely vivacious person I know."

  
Camille can't help but smile at Richard's description of her. "Hmm. I think I'll be feeling far more vivacious once we fix this gate."

  
After several minutes of teamwork, the gate is back on its hinges and Camille lets out a triumphant sigh of relief before deciding to lean over and steal a quick kiss from her husband.

  
"Eww! Grownups are so disgusting!" Emily states in contempt from somewhere nearby the moment Camille's lips touch Richard's.

  
"Good thing she didn't see what you did to me earlier," Richard mutters pulling away ever so slightly, his lips still close enough to Camille's that she can feel the breath exhaled with his words.

  
Just as he steps away from her, a small car pulls into the driveway. There had been so much chaos surrounding the events of today, that she had forgotten to get back to Michael and tell him that Richard no longer needed his help so he and Liz had driven over directly after the ballet recital, with their daughter, Avery, who is the same age as Emily, still in tow.

  
Camille is proud of how easily her husband explains what happened to his cousin, not guilty as he once might have felt the need to be, but very matter of fact. Despite there no longer being any sort of work to be done, the two cousins are soon discussing the garden amicably, each with a beer in hand.

  
Having assigned herself the role of designated driver, Liz is unwilling to drink, so she and Camille retreat to the kitchen to chat while Avery tells Emily and Rory about her ballet recital in the other room.

  
Afternoon soon slips away into evening, and before Camille has time to think about it, Liz, Michael, and Avery are gone again and the flat slips back into its normal rhythm.

  
After showering, Camille comes back downstairs to find Richard in the kitchen drinking tea while watching the lights from the neighboring flat. "It's strange isn't it," he states as she enters the room.

  
"I honestly thought I would never see him again," Camille admits.

  
"Well that too, but I was thinking about how I spent so many years convinced I would be happiest among my fellow countrymen, and now here I am telling my French wife about how much I dread finding out our neighbor is another Englishman."

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact that didn't quite make it into this story (didn't quite feel right as I write these things out of order and will probably write an actual introductory fic for Liz and Michael later on): Liz, who as evidenced by her brief mention in the wedding fic, is a character I have been working on for a LONG time and she is also biracial like Camille. The face claim I picture for her is a lovely, but woefully underappreciated American actress named Bellina Logan. Michael's face claim is interestingly someone who played a sort of couple with this particular actress in the TV series Sons of Anarchy. By sort of couple I unfortunately mean he was a cruel abuser who tricked her into marrying him, but the actor is nothing like that particular character in real life, and also happens to be my favorite actor AND he has two full arm sleeves of tattoos which makes picturing that detail of Michael a little easier.
> 
> Also, I believe the translation for Camille's French is something along the lines of "My God, why would he think that was remotely appropriate?"


End file.
